Suspense & Sensibility

involved Robert’s wife, the former Miss Lucy Steele, but that story could fill a book by itself. Lucy Ferrars brought to their marriage no fortune or connections of her own. The couple have a house in Norfolk and one daughter. Regina Ferrars came out this season, and by all reports, her mother is promoting her prospects quite aggressively.'

'My, you have been busy. Did you also learn the name of Mr. Dashwood’s favorite hunting hound?'

'Rex.'

He smiled at her thoroughness. When his wife undertook a mission, she saw it to completion.

'I also heard that he has a few more relations through his grandfather’s second marriage, all quite respectable. One of them is married to a colonel,' she said. 'So much for his fortune and family. What have you ascertained about the man himself?'

Darcy leaned back in the chair. 'Lord Phillip’s intelligence, shallow though it was, unfortunately forms an accurate summary of Mr. Dash wood. Never serious in his studies, he attended Oxford only at the insistence of his parents. Now that his father’s death has granted him complete independence, he spends all his time gadding about town with his friends. When not otherwise engaged, he can be found lounging on Bond Street from one to four o’clock, riding in Hyde Park at five, then off to some social affair or the theatre.'

'So, he wants seriousness and meaningful occupation. But then, so do most of his peers. Dissipation is an epidemic among gentlemen in town. Have you heard any real ill of him? Is he a drunkard? Does he have debts? Does he treat ladies as a gentleman should?'

'By all reports, his reputation is sound in those respects.'

She sighed and rose to prepare for bed. 'Then I think we ought not interfere with any courtship between Mr. Dashwood and Kitty.'

He caught her by the hand to stop her as she passed. 'You would see her marry a man of so little substance?'

'I’d hardly consider six thousand a year ‘little substance.’'

'His material circumstances are, of course, beyond objection. I was speaking of his character.'

'He comes from a respectable family. He seems to have few real vices and the ability to regulate them himself. More important, he has already engaged Kitty’s affections, and I believe his regard for her is sincere. Add to that his generous income, and a young woman of Kitty’s iortune cannot realistically hope to do better, nor, at this point, do I expect she wishes to.'

'But his idleness! Could you be happy with a man whose idea of an afternoon well spent is selecting the perfect fob chain?'

'No. But I am not Kitty, and what makes me happy would not satisfy her.' Still holding his hand, she came round to settle on his knee. 'Indeed, that I found happiness with such a serious man continues to baffle most of my family.'

'I promised you that I would protect Kitty’s interests as if she were my own sister. Your father is relying on my judgment.'

'Then let that judgment derive from a better observation of Mr. Dashwood himself. He returns to town tomorrow. Why don’t you call upon him? Invite him to dine with us.'

It was a sound idea. Darcy would not have wanted his future with Elizabeth decided upon the basis of public impressions and reports in general circulation about him when they had first met.

'I will,' he agreed. 'Perhaps I will also suggest that a young man wishing to pay addresses to Miss Bennet would do well to conduct himself in a more useful manner.'

'Now Darcy, don’t go scaring him.'

Five

'My protege, as you call him, is a sensible man,

and sense will always have attractions for me.'

— Elinor Dashwood to Mr. Willoughby,

Sense and Sensibility, Chapter 10

Harry Dashwood possessed an address as fashionable as the rest of his accoutrements. Upon coming into his inheritance, he had taken a townhouse in Pall Mall from which he could enjoy his new independence free from his mother’s watchful eye. From what Darcy had heard of Mrs. John Dashwood, Harry need not have bothered. By all accounts, Fanny was an indulgent mother unlikely to curb any pleasure of her only son, so long as he did nothing to seriously jeopardize his own or the family’s reputation.

Darcy handed his card to the servant and waited patiently at the door while it was determined whether the master was at home. Mr. Dashwood’s voice emanating from the hall indicated that he had indeed completed his journey back to London, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was receiving visitors. A few moments, however, brought the servant back with an invitation to step inside.

'Mr. Darcy!' Dashwood exclaimed upon sighting him. 'You honor me with this visit.' He paused to direct three footmen who carried a large looking glass. 'Put it in my dressing room.'

The servants ascended the stairs with the mirror. Darcy noticed a pair of trunks also awaiting relocation.

'Forgive me,' Mr. Dashwood said, gesturing toward the baggage. 'I’ve just arrived home.'

'Perhaps I should return at a later time.'

'No — do stay! You must, however, allow me to change my shirt. This one is travel-worn.'

'Of course.'

'Come along, then. This way.'

Harry took the stairs two at a time, forcing Darcy to trot to keep up with him. At the landing Darcy paused, presuming he was to wait in the drawing room. Mr. Dashwood, however, urged him up the next set of stairs. 'You must see the looking glass I brought home with me. Found it in Norland’s attic.'

Darcy followed Mr. Dashwood to his dressing room, where the servants were propping the mirror against the wall.

'Leave it for now,' Harry instructed. 'You can mount it when I’ve decided exactly where I want it.' The servants departed.

The mirror was indeed a striking objet d’art. The glass itself was perhaps five feet long and two feet wide, with a heavy gold frame that added another six inches to the sides and bottom. Intricately carved images of nude athletes stood out in bas relief, laurel leaves entwining their muscular forms. At the top, a twelve-inch crown boasted a man’s face at its center, his features perfectly capturing the classical ideal of male beauty.

'What do you think?' asked Mr. Dashwood. 'It has to be centuries old, at least — a real antiquity. Looks to me like it could have come from ancient Greece.'

Darcy paused before replying. Though he appreciated its artistry, he doubted the treasure could be as old as Mr. Dashwood believed. To his knowledge, the ancient Greeks had made only hand mirrors of polished metal; the techniques used to fashion a looking glass of this size and construction were much later developments. This mirror, therefore, must be a relatively modern creation, designed to appeal to the current vogue for classical art and architecture.

Yet the mirror seemed older. Despite the differences in construction, somehow it could stand among other ancient artifacts in the British Museum and not be out of place. He supposed Elizabeth would say it had the character of a genuine antique — an aura of history about it. 'How long has the glass been in your family’s possession?' he asked.

'I have no idea. My housekeeper thought it belonged to Sir Francis Dashwood, an ancestor, but where he got it from, I don’t know.'

'You are descended from Sir Francis Dashwood?'

Mr. Dashwood grinned. 'Heard the shocking stories, have you? The Hell-Fire Club and all that? Yes, he